Broccoli and Apple Salad -- The Notebook, the Soup, and the Line That Leads to Me

September 14th. Nine years. I went to Holy Sepulchre at 6:30, before school, sunflowers. I talked to Jess. I told her about the program. I told her about Jordan, who has started to come forward in the classroom in the specific way I was waiting for: Tuesday he answered a question, Thursday he raised his hand for the first time, Friday he told me his opinion about a book we were reading and he had a real opinion, considered and defended. I told Jess about Jordan the way I have told her about every student who has made me glad to be in this work. She would have been thirty-two this year. She would have been doing something extraordinary. I do not know what. I know it would have been extraordinary.

I made the mushroom soup. From the notebook, the same version I have been making since August of last year, which is mine now, which holds both griefs and all the Septembers. I brought it to school in a thermos and ate it at my desk at lunch and sat in my classroom for twenty minutes in the quiet before the afternoon bell and held the things I hold on this day, which are: Jess at twenty-one, still new, still sharp. Jess at thirty-two, impossible to imagine fully but present anyway. Babcia Rose, who is now two Septembers gone. The notebook. The soup. The line from them to me.

Ryan had the night off and he made dinner, the pasta with candles again, for Jess, as he has done every September 14th since 2022. I sat down and he said "for Jess" and I said "for Jess" and we ate. The twins ate pasta too, in their booster seats, with no idea that the candles meant something, and that is right, that is exactly right: the grief belongs to the adults and the pasta belongs to everyone. Both things can be true at the same table.

The Concordia coursework is good. I turned in my first assignment, a response paper on the history of special education legislation, and the professor's feedback said: "strong analytical thinking, keep developing this voice." I read it twice. I am keeping this feedback. It goes in the same place I keep the good things: Jess's photograph, Babcia Rose's notebook, Darius's letter draft, the card from Ryan that said "I love you, wife" the day we got our marriage license. The folder of things worth having. It keeps getting thicker.

The mushroom soup was its own thing, sacred and fixed, and I’m not sharing that recipe yet—it still belongs to Babcia Rose’s notebook more than it belongs to the internet. But the salad I made over the weekend, the one that has been my first proper fall cooking of the season every year, that one I can give you. There’s something about the crunch of broccoli and the tartness of a good apple in September that feels like the season arriving with its sleeves rolled up: honest, a little bracing, ready to do the work. This is what I make when I need to feel like fall has actually started, like the kitchen is mine again after a long summer, like I am someone who cooks with intention.

Broccoli and Apple Salad

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 4 cups fresh broccoli florets, cut small
• 2 medium apples (Honeycrisp or Granny Smith), cored and diced
• 1/4 cup red onion, finely diced
• 1/3 cup dried cranberries
• 1/3 cup sunflower seeds (or chopped walnuts)
• 4 strips bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled (optional)
• Dressing:
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise
• 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

1. Make the dressing. Whisk together the mayonnaise, apple cider vinegar, honey, salt, and pepper in a small bowl until smooth. Taste and adjust seasoning. Set aside.
2. Prep the vegetables and fruit. Cut broccoli into small, bite-sized florets—smaller pieces absorb the dressing better and are easier to eat. Dice the apples into roughly 1/2-inch pieces. Finely dice the red onion.
3. Combine. In a large bowl, toss together the broccoli, apples, red onion, cranberries, and sunflower seeds. If using bacon, add it here.
4. Dress and toss. Pour the dressing over the salad and toss well until everything is evenly coated. The broccoli should be glossy but not swimming.
5. Rest or serve. You can serve immediately for maximum crunch, or cover and refrigerate for up to 30 minutes to let the flavors come together. The broccoli will soften slightly as it sits—both versions are good.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 19g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 280mg